“To speak.” I stepped closer, my bare feet pressing into cold marble stained with divine blood. “And I’m telling you now—you don’t get to fall alone.”
He pulled me against his chest, and his wings closed around us like a tomb. Like a womb. Like the beginning of something that had no name yet.
He finally turned. His eyes—one silver, one gold—held the weight of every god he’d devoured, every realm he’d unmade. But beneath that ancient hunger, something else flickered. Something that looked almost like fear. When he takes -Fallen god 2- - Gabrielle Sands
Outside, the other gods were gathering their armies. Inside, Valdís pressed his lips to my throat—not to break, but to breathe.
Not with words—Valdís, the Fallen God of Ruin, never lied with words. He lied with silences. With the way his scarred fingers paused before touching my skin. With the way he said “run” like a prayer rather than a command. “To speak
“I took everything from you,” he reminded me. His voice scraped the air like stone on stone. “Your kingdom. Your family. Your mortal name.”
“You should hate me,” he said. Not looking at me. Looking at the altar where they’d once bound him for a thousand years. Like the beginning of something that had no name yet
Not of his enemies.